


feel the magic in the air

by annadavidson



Series: that which shaped the century (a dragon age dual au) [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Dual AU, Dual AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 00:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10674111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: There were somethings that would never stop amazing him.Prompt: Breeze.





	feel the magic in the air

There were somethings that would never stop amazing him. Somethings he would never stop enjoying. They were little things, perhaps taken for granted by the companions he traveled with. Perhaps they didn’t think it was magical to experience something as simple as feeling the wind against your face, but it magic to Piras. He couldn’t remember a time before the Circle and its walls, its rules, its confinement. Many times he had looked out the door and had been tempted to run or to stand in the doorway to feel the cool breeze that swept over the lake.

But the ever present threat of a Templar’s sword had kept the young mage from experiencing that magic. Until he had joined the Grey Wardens.

He remembered standing outside the Circle, taking in his new surroundings, his new freedom. The moment the wind had picked up, blowing his long hair in his face, he had closed his eyes and just smiled. He had just stood there for several minutes, enjoying the wind’s touch, the sun’s warmth, the smell of the lake and wilderness.

He sat by the fire now, watching the way the wind made the flames spark and dance. He closed his eyes and leaned back on his hands. He heard rather than saw someone sit down behind him, legs coming up on either side of him, arms wrapping around his torso. He rested himself against the body, already knowing who it was. Unless one of his other companions had suddenly grown the urge to wrap their arms around him and cuddle, which he didn’t think was likely.

He felt Zevran press a soft kiss against his temple and made a content sigh. This was something else that he thought the others might take for granted. _Love._ Of course he didn’t plan on telling Zevran that he loved him. In Zevran’s own words, what room was there for love? Remembering those words didn’t help make him confident enough to confess his feelings. But having Zevran, loving him even if he wouldn’t admit this was love, was enough for the mage. He had never considered falling in love. As a mage in the Circle, love hadn’t been allowed. To love in the Circle was dangerous. Romantic love could get you killed. And loving anyone made the possibility of losing them to a demon, Templar’s sword, or the Rite of Tranquility even more painful.

So much had been forbidden that he could now experience. He enjoyed the big things like fighting, traveling around, and sex – he _really_ enjoyed sex. But he _loved_ the little things. Breathing in and smelling fresh air, to have arms wrap around him without feeling threatened, and to say what he wanted, when he wanted without fearing the consequences. His favorite thing was to feel the wind, the sun’s warmth, and even the cold touch of night – to just be outside. He thought non-mages, especially those who didn’t grow up in the Circle, took something as simple yet complex as nature for granted.

He could fall asleep in Zevran’s arms to the fire crackling and wind whispering. He shifted in place and felt Zevran adjust so they could both get more comfy. He heard the other elf murmur into his ear and hummed in approval.

It was on the tip of his tongue – to say _“I love you.”_ But he kept it there and dared not speak the words. He didn’t want to risk losing whatever it was he had with the other elf. Whatever this was, it was new, wild, and beautiful to him. He didn’t want to lose any of that. Perhaps it was for the best that his feelings remained unspoken. No one in their party knew who, if any of them, would survive the Blight. To confess your feelings for someone, only to either lose them or have them lose you… That sounded heartbreaking to him. He didn’t want to break Zevran’s heart, and he didn’t want his own heart to break.

So he stayed quiet, snuggled back against the rogue. He kept his mouth and eyes shut. Rather than focusing on his feelings, he focused on the soft breeze that blew by, reminding himself that this, like love, was a privilege he had once been denied. And he discovered that, ignoring the idea of leaving Zevran, he was fine with the idea of dying because in death, no one could take these privileges away from him ever again. In death, the Chantry couldn’t touch him. However death _did_ mean leaving Zevran and the friends he cared deeply about. He didn’t want to leave them, and he didn’t want them to leave him. He needed to find comfort in life rather than death.

Thus Piras decided he would make it so the Chantry couldn’t touch him in life either.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/159760170285/micro-story-31-breeze-for-whatever-pairing).


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